Prism
by taralynden
Summary: Light through a prism gets separated into various colours. These are an ongoing collection of unrelated Transformers ficlets. Ratings vary.
1. Having fun

Title: Having fun  
Universe: G1  
Rating: K+

A/N: based on a prompt from anontfwriter

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I make no profit from this, I'm just having fun.

* * *

Even more than he loved fighting, Sunstreaker loved speed. He loved the exhilaration of travelling faster than most could control, on the edge of what he himself could control, and Sideswipe loved it just as much.

Sometimes they misjudged a little and would crash, but the other was always there and Ratchet was always around and after a rant and a few dents from Ratchet's wrench they would be back seeking more thrills.

Right now, like many times before, he was travelling at speeds he was not built for. Clinging to Thundercracker as the Seeker rolled crazily to try to shake him off, Sunstreaker laughed aloud. This was fun.

Jet judo generally had three possible outcomes: the Seeker would crash into the ground and he would jump free just in time, the Seeker would crash into another Decepticon and he would jump free just in time, or he would lose his grip. Today it was the latter. One of the panels he was clinging to came loose in his hand, tearing free.

Judging by Thundercracker's shriek, it hurt, but Sunstreaker had no time to celebrate - he was falling, staring up at the sky.

Nearby, his brother deliberately let go of Skywarp and dove down towards him, not yet activating his jetpack. They were a long way up, there was time, and there was some fun to be had in falling too. Sunstreaker grinned up at his brother and saw his own glee mirrored there.

The gap between them slowly closed as they plummeted down, and Sunstreaker spread his limbs in an effort to slow his descent just a little. The pressure on his armour was intense, but he was undamaged and it could do him no harm. Sideswipe reached out, intending to get a good grip before activating his jetpack... and then suddenly spiralled out of the way, knocked off course by a suddenly-appearing Skywarp.

Sunstreaker scowled. Sideswipe was fine, but it took the fun out of the fall. Now he was going to hit the ground, and that would hurt. It would not kill him, he had fallen from higher before, but it was irritating.

In the meantime he was pleased to see Sideswipe had grabbed Skywarp's wing and was causing the Seeker to barrel roll. Served him right.

Deciding it would be better to crash facing down rather than back-first - Ratchet would rant for days if he broke his spinal struts again this week - he turned over in the air and noticed something disturbing. He was not going to crash in the middle of the battleground. He had drifted off-course and was now falling directly above the gaping maw of a deep fissure. That would be awkward to climb out of if he were injured.

He made a belated effort to adjust his course but to no avail. Ground level, such as it was, flashed by, and then he was surrounded by darkness. Bracing for impact, he was startled to feel something thud against his hip then tug him to a violent halt.

Turning on his headlights to see where he was, he stared down at a group of sharp rock spikes almost within armsreach. Had he landed on those, he would have been in serious trouble.

Something tugged at him, and he moved jerkily upwards a little, then stalled and slid back down a fraction. Twisting around, he realised that he was caught by Jazz's grappling hook, the line stretching up towards a ledge above.

For the first time he felt real alarm. Jazz alone was not strong enough to pull his weight up from here. The line would not break, but it was just as likely to pull the TIC down on top of him as to pull him up.

"Let me go!" he yelled.

At this height the drop would not be so bad. It would be difficult to get out again, but he should not be injured.

There was no answer, but after a moment he was jerked upwards again. Then again. Small increments, ever upwards. How was Jazz doing it? Someone must have arrived to help.

Watching for his chance, he grabbed at a protrusion and pulled himself up and over the lip of the ledge. He paused to unhook the line and then looked around for his rescuers. To his surprise, Jazz was alone, leaning casually against a boulder.

"You saved me?"

"Sure did."

"_How_? I'm heavier than you, I should've pulled you over the edge."

Jazz smiled mysteriously.

"I got m'ways. Now, get back out there before the fightin's over."

Sunstreaker nodded, transforming to travel faster, then paused.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jazz nodded evenly, then groaned as Ratchet appeared over a ridge. "Aw, doc, couldn't you've waited just a _few_ clicks more? You're spoilin' my moment."

"I'll spoil more than your _moment_ if you've pulled your arm out of its socket _again_!" Ratchet threatened.

Jazz yelped, jumping behind Sunstreaker and giving him a push.

"Don't you wanna check over Sunny first? He nearly crashed, y'know."

"Frag that!" Sunstreaker interrupted. "I'm outta here. You're on your own, Jazz."

He revved his engine and took off, hearing the familiar sound of a wrench hitting its target as he left.

Jazz would understand, he would make it up to him later. Right now he had Cons to beat up.


	2. The perfect life

Title: The perfect life  
Universe: Transformers: Cybertron (probably AU)  
Characters: Vector Prime & Safeguard  
Prompt: "This is not what I had in mind"

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I make no profit from this, I'm just having fun.

* * *

Safeguard smiled as he settled back into his altmode positioned on Vector Prime's forearm, listening to Jolt's questions about why he did not spend more time with the rest of them, why he was always so quick to hide away again, why he almost never even spoke to anyone other than Prime.

The answer, in short, was that that was how Safeguard liked it. But to understand _why_ they needed to know how he had ended up here in the first place, and that was a story he had no intention of sharing.

It started with a simple fact: Vector Prime had once been a minibot.

Prime's predecessor had visited Gigantion a few short decades ago in chronological time from the current date but more than three millennia ago in experienced time. Such qualifications on time measurements became necessary in their line of work.

In any case, he had come to visit when he knew his death was imminent. He had swapped his own consciousness into the frame of his chosen successor, who then became the current Vector Prime. Not the original Vector Prime, and not even the second Vector Prime, but for all important purposes the _only_ Vector Prime.

The problem was, Safeguard had seen it all happen.

The chosen one - whose memory had been honoured when the spark in his frame had guttered - did not recall his previous life. Safeguard was not even sure he remembered that he had ever _had_ a previous life.

Jolt and the others had come along after the exchange, had accepted what they were told and did not have any reason to question it. Vector Prime was the guardian, and Safeguard was his chosen companion.

Not his lover as they had initially assumed, never that. That would have been too weird, regardless of the fact the Prime did not recall his past, but close.

Back when it had happened, the older Vector Prime had been startled to realise he had been observed and had briefly explained what he intended.

"_I am sorry." he had apologised, the offline form of his successor-to-be cradled offline in his hands. "This is not what I had in mind. I thought I had chosen well, but now if I have not I have little time to amend my mistake. Even I must obey some laws of time."_

"_What did you have in mind?" Safeguard had asked curiously._

"_I was looking for one with no family."_

"_He has no family." Safeguard assured him._

"_But he has you to miss him."_

"_But I will not miss him. I will go with him."_

"_That would be... unusual. Will no-one miss you?"_

"_No."_

It was a question he had no need to consider before answering.

He had lived the life of a hermit for so long he was unsure whether anyone realised he still functioned.

They had never exchanged names - the little one either did not know his own designation or the accident had corrupted that part of his programming. If he had not collapsed, starving, right in Safeguard's path he would have perished before reaching adulthood. Instead they had lived together, not quite as guardian and foundling but more as acquaintances. A few short vorns of doing chores together, speaking sparingly, respecting each other's need for solitude. And now this.

It amused Safeguard somewhat to think that Vector Prime - the new one - now considered himself Safeguard's own guardian. And it amused him even more that his humour confused the larger mech.

He could not have said himself why he had chosen to go with Prime. Perhaps for the same reason he had gone into seclusion: weariness with life as it was, desire for a life less complicated.

His life now was perfect. Vector Prime waded into crises and dealt with complications, but Safeguard's role was simple: he was there as companion, as assistant, as confidante, as supporter. And it was the most rewarding job in the universe.

It was the perfect job, the perfect life, and the best part of all was that since they lived outside of the timestream it need never come to an end.


	3. True power

Title: True power  
Universe: G1  
Characters: Decepticons

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I make no profit from this, I'm just having fun.

* * *

The tyrant loomed over the grovelling coward, incensed.

"We retreated without the energy we needed. Again. Why?"

"My lord, please, we had no choice. Prime..."

The words cut off with a whimper as a vicious kick landed on his cheek.

"_Prime_ was not the problem. _You_ were the problem. You were supposed to be on the rooftop with Blitzwing, not on the ground where Prime could ambush you. Why did you move? Answer me!"

"I saw an advantage..."

"He lies." Soundwave interrupted, earning the sniveller another kick.

"You were trying to escape again. Did you forget Soundwave is watching your thoughts constantly? Yours above everyone else's? The is no thought you have that he does not hear and that I do not learn of. You are here at _my_ pleasure. You still live because _I_ allow it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Swear it."

"I swear it, my lord. I am your servant, I do as you command. Only you."

He had heard that before.

"Soundwave?"

"He seeks to defy you."

"No! Please! I... I can't help my thoughts sometimes, but I am loyal. I am _loyal_! I would never betray you, never! Please..."

The tyrant watched him coldly, allowing him to ramble on through desperate promises that no-one else would ever hear. Promises no-one would believe he would make to anyone.

Most of the crew believed they were lovers. It was a convenient excuse for the time they spent alone, but he had his own outlets. This pitiful excuse for a mech was not worth that kind of reward. In any case, only Soundwave knew the truth and he would never reveal it. Without that support who else would believe it? No-one.

Loyal Soundwave. So different to this disloyal but oh-so-useful puppet. Speaking of whom, there were other things he should be doing.

"Enough." he barked, flexing his wings. "I don't want to hear any more of your whining. Go play your part. Blame it all on Starscream, like you usually do. But remember, I am watching. I am always watching."

"Yes, Lord Thundercracker." Megatron whispered, all defiance gone. "As you command."


	4. A friendly exchange

Title: A friendly exchange  
Characters: Ratchet/Sunstreaker, Prowl/Jazz

Rating: K+

A/N: Both relationships are new developments and no-one on board is entirely impressed by either pairing, apart from that I'm not really sure what's going on - these muses aren't talking to me any more.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I make no profit from this, I'm just having fun.

* * *

Ratchet did not need to look up to know who caused the shadow in his office doorway. No-one else would approach when he was in this kind of mood, not unless they had a critical injury. Even then, most might think twice. This one, though, would not leave just because he was yelled at.

"What do you want, Prowl?" he growled.

"To talk. May I come in?"

"So you'll go away if I refuse?"

"No."

"Then what's the point of asking?"

"It is generally considered polite." Prowl responded calmly.

The tactician picked his way carefully across the floor, avoiding the broken datapads and thrown implements, then brushed some crystal shards off the visitor's chair and seated himself as assuredly as if he were in his own office.

Ratchet folded his arms crossly. Prowl wanted to talk? Well he did not.

"This'd better not be about that slagging maintenance report." he warned him. "I told you already I'll have it on your desk tomorrow and I _will_ if I can just get a breem's peace."

"This is not work related."

"A purely social call? From _you_? So now you have to _act_ like Jazz, not just frag him?"

"This is not about Jazz," Prowl began mildly, but Ratchet had had enough.

"He's at least as incompatible with you as Sunny is with me, so butt out and leave us alone!" he exploded.

Prowl, for his part, simply folded his hands primly in his lap.

"Incompatible? Do you believe that?"

"About you and Jazz? Absolutely! No question!"

"About you and Sunstreaker." Prowl persisted evenly, not responding to the insult with so much as a doorwing flick.

"You just don't like him because he's a troublemaker. He disobeys, he gets in trouble, he goes where he shouldn't, he ignores orders. He should be locked up. He's a maniac, everyone believes it so why not you too?"

"I am not here to have an argument with you over what others might believe. You should know better than to expect such vitriol from me."

"Pretty words don't change what you're thinking. You don't think Sunny and I will work, do you? Do you? Truth, Prowl: don't lie to me, we've known each other too long."

Prowl held his gaze silently for a moment before responding.

"You both have volatile tempers. His role is to destroy, yours is to save. You have had sparkmates before and lost them to this war, while he has never yet committed to anyone at all beyond his brother and has never shown any sign that he intended to. Even now, his motives remain obscure..."

"Get out." Ratchet hissed, brandishing a wrench threateningly. "Get out before I _throw_ you out. And don't think I won't do it!"

As second in command Prowl could have him incarcerated for the threat alone and Ratchet half-wished he would - some uninterrupted time to think would be welcome, and there was nowhere more isolated than the _Ark_'s brig - but instead he only sighed and rose.

"Very well, I shall go. But before I do, I would like to fulfil my purpose in coming. I came to offer you and Sunstreaker three decaorns leave of duty, and in spite of my less than warm reception here that offer stands. With Prime's blessing."

"What?" Ratchet choked, his arm lowering as confusion washed through him.

"I felt you were likely to appreciate some time to determine the direction of this new relationship without the interference of others. First Aid can cover your duties here adequately for that time period."

Ratchet fell back into his chair, stunned, as Prowl moved back towards the door. He could not quite process what he was hearing, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to have a processor freeze.

A panicked thought occurred to him that if it was, he was not sure how he would break out of it.

"And for the record," the SIC commented, pausing in the doorway, "since you ask, thus far Jazz and I have found each other remarkably compatible. Given time I'm sure that that will also prove true outside of our physical relationship but in the meantime I would appreciate the same patient consideration that you have so eloquently requested for yourself. Enjoy your vacation, Ratchet. I hope it goes well."


	5. All grown up

Title: All grown up

Characters: Starscream, Skywarp, Thundercracker  
Verse: G1, pre-war  
Rating: K

Disclaimer: I don't own transformers, this is just for fun

A/N: written for kittona as an early birthday present as she's going to be fanfic-less for several months. Good luck!

* * *

Starscream leaned casually against the wall, well aware that he stood out strikingly against the muted colours of the building's surface and was drawing attention to himself. It was nice to see mecha taking a second look, a lot of those looks admiring. And to think that this morning he had been in a plain, standard sparkling frame. He truly was special.

All of the adult-frame upgrades were essentially the same, but the natural nanite colouration was determined by a mech's spark: it was difficult to predict and even more difficult to change. His trinemates had been reasonably fortunate; Skywarp's dominant black was unusual but could have done with silver or gold highlights rather than plain mauve, and Thundercracker's mid-blue and red was simply dull, but neither were actually ugly. By contrast, his bright red, blue and white were remarkable. Prime colours, several of the tutors had muttered in his hearing. Not that he needed to be told.

Before the upgrades they had all been lectured on the common results. Aerial types often tended to mauves and ground-bound types tended to reds. Greens occurred in both, but the latter had the darker variants, while the opposite was true of blues. Orange was a common ground-bound variant, while silver was common for fliers.

The colours had no real purpose, the tutors had insisted. They helped distinguish one mech from another visually, and that was all. But it was true that the rare combination of white, red and azure blue was almost exclusively natural to those who would either be the Prime or who would closely serve him.

What was his destiny, Starscream wondered, running a considering hand over the edge of one of his new broad wings. To serve the Prime? To be a Prime's consort, perhaps? Or to actually be Prime himself?

"Look at him preening." a familiar voice distracted him. "Like he wasn't arrogant enough before."

"At least _you_ don't clash with him."

Starscream turned lazily to look at his trinemates.

"Took you long enough to get here. Where have you been?"

"Getting our specialisation upgrades." Thundercracker reminded him. "The ones you turned down, remember?"

Starscream twitched. The offer was only made after the frame upgrade and only to a tiny proportion of new adults. He had told his trinemates had turned the offer down because only the weak needed the extra help and he was already perfect anyway, but in fact he had never been given the option. They had actually refused when he demanded to be given them.

"Of course I did. You can't improve on what I already am. Besides, those things always turn glitchy."

He paused, burning with curiosity but not wanting to appear too eager. Thankfully Skywarp could always be counted on to be impatient.

"Well _I'm_ not glitchy and neither's TC. Wanna see?"

"Warp, wait, they said...!" Thundercracker began in alarm.

Too late. Before Starscream's disbelieving optics Skywarp's form flickered like a bad hologram then vanished entirely. Startled he began to ask a question when someone tapped him on the shoulder, making him squawk in startlement and jump away. Spinning about he found Skywarp doubled up with laughter.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"Y-you... your... you _squealed_!" his trinemate choked.

"Did not!" Starscream retorted indignantly.

"He can skip between place." Thundercracker explained. "But the instructors said it was dangerous for him to use it until he had had training."

"And you? You can do it too?"

How was he supposed to lead... to even keep up with... a trine like that? Slag the stupid officials for denying him the upgrades.

"No." Thundercracker responded, oblivious to his fuming. "I can make a sonic boom. Enough to disrupt enemy systems if we're ever in combat. Which doesn't seem likely - I don't know why they bothered."

"Did they say what they would've given you if you hadn't refused?" Skywarp asked, recovering from his giggles.

"Of course they didn't." Thundercracker retorted. "They didn't tell _us_, remember?"

"Yeah, but we didn't say no. Hey, I bet it was going to be something to make him less grumpy."

"Glitch." Starscream growled, flicking his wings in reflexive annoyance and then finding himself completely distracted.

How wonderful it was to have full-sized wings. To have the energy reserves to really fly, not just glide. To have the processing power to handle the extra data. Already, just standing here, he had been enthralled by the data pouring in from the sensors on his new frame. The new programming filtered and categorised it, new algorithms whispering enticingly about optimum vectors and preferential angles.

He wanted to _fly_. Needed to fly. Their training sessions to date had been disappointing, limited by their inadequate sparkling frames. But now things should be different.

So what if his trinemates got additional upgrades? He would still be the best flier Vos had ever produced, he felt it in his spark. And with his exceptional aerial prowess he would be invited to be part of Prime's honourguard. Or perhaps catch his optic with his grace. Or perhaps...

"Starscream, are you ready? There's no need to be nervous, you'll be fine."

He glared at the tutor who had approached while he was distracted.

"I am not nervous." he said frostily, stalking past him to the edge of the landing.

Transforming into his new tetrajet altmode, he paused. It was a long way down, far enough for the tutor to follow and catch him if his engines stalled. But he would not stall. Firing up his thrusters he pushed out into the emptiness... and felt his own wings support him. And at that moment he fell in love. Whatever else happened, he would always have this, and this was everything.

Flight was life.

* * *

Skywarp helped Thundercracker carry their offline trinemate back to their quarters, not even bothering to grumble since Starscream would not hear it. Their trine leader had flown as though he had been doing it for centuries while he and Thundercracker lumbered clumsily along behind him, trying to keep up. They had grown tired of the effort after awhile but Starscream had kept going until he had literally exhausted himself. Not that it had been boring, watching him. Flying was great, but somehow it was so much more intense for Starscream. The joy he had felt had been palpable through the fledging trinebond and still awed Skywarp even now.

And that joy had been matched with incredible instinctive skill. Starscream had always been confident on the ground where many fliers were naturally clumsy, but in the air he was exquisately graceful.

That, plus his unique colouration, left Skywarp wondering. There had never been a Seeker with that colouring. Had never been a Seeker consort. Had never been a Seeker Prime. Was Starscream to be the first? And what would that mean for their trinebond?

"He won't abandon us." Thundercracker reassured him, sensing the anxiety and guessing its cause. "We fit together."

"He'll want us to keep up, though. Or else..."

"We'll practice."

"We'll never be as good. Never. Did you _see_ him?"

"We'll be good enough because we have to be." Thundercracker insisted, settling Starscream onto his berth and looking down at him fondly.

"Do you think this is why they didn't let him have the upgrades?" Skywarp persisted. "Because they knew he wouldn't need them? Because we _would_, to keep up with him?"

"I guess we'll find out."

"Yeah. I guess so. TC?"

"What?"

"Why did he lie to us? We _heard_ him arguing with them - we know he didn't have a choice."

"You know Star, Warp. Image is everything."

"I guess. He should know we don't care, though. Hey, TC? You know what would be really funny?"

"I know that look on your face usually gets someone in trouble."

"We could repaint him. What do you think - amber and khaki? With brown detailing?"

"He'll kill us." Thundercracker replied, but he was now grinning too.

Skywarp shrugged.

"Only a little. Come on, I know where the paints are."

"So do I, but it's locked up."

"Yeah, but _I_ don't need a key anymore..."

* * *

Two joors later, the training barracks rang with indignant screaming and death threats. Skywarp was grinning madly as they hid in a closet, keeping the trinelink as quiet as they could.

"He's earning his name again. Even the stars can hear him."

"Just be ready to get us out of here if he comes close. I don't know why I let you talk me into these things."

"Because they're fun?"

Thundercracker tried to look stern, failed, gave in and laughed.

"Yeah, maybe."

They were the craziest trine in their age-group, yet somehow he knew Skywarp's pranks would never go too far and Starscream's rants were partly tempered when aimed at them. Personality-wise, they were a poor fit, yet somehow it worked. And now they were adults. The fun and games of life at the Academy would give way to the realities of having to earn a living and looking after themselves. His trinemates did not worry about that the way he did, Warp's naivete and Starscream's arrogance convincing them both that they would be fine. Well, between the three of them they probably would be.

So long as Starscream didn't take this latest prank _too_ seriously.


	6. Denial

**Title: Denial**

Rating: T  
'Verse: G1  
Characters: Ratchet, Sideswipe  
Prompt: Avoiding love at any cost.

A/N: written for Vivienne Grainger - happy birthday ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I don't make any profit from this, I just do it for fun

* * *

The lovers stole precious moments together. Desperate kisses swallowing needy moans, grasping fingers moving fast against heated plating... too fast, leaving scratches...

Always with one optic on the door. Always with audials tuned to pick up on the sound of anyone approaching.

They never talked, but each knew in his spark that it could never work. Commitment was out of the question, and discussing it would not help: the other would not understand. Could not understand.

How could _he_ understand, the medic mourned, grappling with his lover on a medical berth. How could this brash, excitable young mech really understand the pain of loss? The agony of knowing someone so well and caring so much for them, and then being forced to watch them die in spite of every effort to save them. The medic had seen it happen too many times, had lost too many friends. Too many lovers. Watched too many mates suffer through too much grief when their partners faded away. He could not bear to do it again. He knew his lover wanted more - of course he would, who wouldn't? - but so long as they never talked about it they could enjoy the physical without giving in to the emotional. They had to. It was all he could give.

How could _he_ understand, the warrior mourned, shoving his lover up against a wall in desperate need for haste. How could this mech, or any mech, truly understand what it was like being a split-spark twin? It wasn't that his brother disapproved or even cared, but _he_ did not feel right about it. All their lives they had shared the same opinions: liking one mech, disliking another, hating the Decepticons. Now he had feelings for someone that were different to those of his brother's and it felt wrong. It felt lonely. He felt urges to acknowledge those feelings for the medic, but simultaneously felt horror that he could be considering doing this. He was not one, he was two, and half of that two was disinterested so he could not do this. He could not accept it. He knew his lover wanted more - of course, what mech wouldn't? - but so long as they never talked about it, they could enjoy the physical without going in to the messy emotional. They had to. It was all he could give.

The lovers parted and observed: red streaks on white, white streaks on red.

"Jack'll be here soon." one apologised.

"Sunny's looking for me." the other admitted.

"Tomorrow." the first asked, turning away.

"Tomorrow." the second agreed, walking out.

Each of them would go through the day talking to friends and colleagues and avoiding contact with the other except when their duties brought them together. Some others might have thought they knew what was going on, but they could never understand. This wasn't love, each of them knew. It could not be.

Love was to be avoided at any cost.


	7. A good day

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers (or the Dinobots!), I don't make any money from this, I just have fun ^_^

**Title: A good day**  
Rating: K  
'Verse: G1  
Characters: Grimlock

A/N: written for Khalthar, in gratitude for patiently listening to my rants when the going got a bit rough.

* * *

Grimlock came out of recharge and looked around. His Dinobots were all still charging quietly, he was the first one awake. It was so peaceful, and... it was unbearably boring.

"Wake up!" he roared.

They startled into wakefulness, looking about to discover what was so urgent, and he laughed at them. They looked at him, panic over and resentfulness now taking over.

They grumbled at him. Slag even took a swipe at him with his tail, but Grimlock dodged it easily.

"Lazy bots. No sleep time now. Me Grimlock say now is time for doing!"

Stomping out into the corridor, followed more slowly by his team, he sneered at a couple of passing Autobots. They were such weaklings.

"If me Grimlock in charge, we no more wait for Decepticons to attack us, we attack them." he grumbled.

His Dinobots murmured agreement, and he grinned at the looks of disgust he garnered from the others within hearing. Of course they would not want to hear such brave plans: they were cowards.

Reaching the rec room he quickened his steps a little just so he could shove Warpath aside at the energon dispenser. The minibot was hot-tempered and could easily be provoked into a brawl. Today, though, a couple of the other minibots pulled Warpath aside and talked to him to stop the fight developing. Grimlock snorted. Weaklings.

"You really should've gotten past the clumsy stage by now." a familiar voice mocked him. "I guess you really are all still just babies."

He growled, spinning to glare at the red twin.

"Me Grimlock not baby. _You_ Sideswipe baby."

Sideswipe sighed dramatically.

"Poor sparkling. Can't even think up your own insults. That's sad, Grimmy, real sad."

"Name not Grimmy. Name GRIMLOCK!"

He stepped forward menacingly, but then saw Sunstreaker was present too. It was a problem. He was not afraid of them - Grimlock was not afraid of anybody! - but the twins were tricksome, particularly when they were together. They moved so quickly and were never still long enough to properly hit. Besides, the yellow twin could get vicious if his brother was hurt: last time he had even dented Grimlock's leg so much he had had to go to Ratchet to get it fixed. It had hurt. A lot.

On the other hand, now that he had started his pride would not let him just back down. Only the weak made threats they couldn't back up. So he had no choice.

"Me Grimlock crush you!"

"You'll do no such thing." Prowl declared crisply, rising from where he had been seated at a different table and moving to stand between them.

The second in command actually stood with his back to Grimlock, facing the twins. A brave move, and a stupid one, but then Prowl had never shown any fear of the Dinobots. It was one of the things that had earned him some grudging admiration from Grimlock.

"If you two have nothing better to do than provoke trouble you can go and help Hoist work through the delivery of metal ore that arrived this morning for refining."

"It wasn't me!" Sunstreaker cried.

"Didn't you see what he did?" Sideswipe tried to argue.

Prowl listened to neither of them.

"Off you go." he ordered, pointing to the door and waiting until they slunk out before turning to face the Dinobots. "Grimlock, ensure your team get their ration then continue with your clearance work for the new road."

Grimlock frowned. He liked Prowl better than some of the other mechs, but he didn't like being told what to do by anyone.

"Me Grimlock no need do what _you_ say." Grimlock huffed.

Prowl met his gaze serenely.

"If you do not wish to continue with your assigned task I can find you something else. Guard duty, for example."

"Me Snarl no want do guard duty."

"Me Slag want destroy rocks again."

"Me Sludge want too!"

Grimlock grunted sourly at the comments from his team, struggling through the quandry.

It had been fun, yesterday, exploding and crushing rocks to clear a path for a new road. Guard duty was boring.

He did not _have_ to follow Prowl's orders, but sometimes it was better to. He had refused duties before and it always ended badly. And it always disappointed Wheeljack, which made Grimlock feel bad. Their creator worked so hard to help them find a way to enjoy themselves.

"Me Grimlock choose." he said finally. "Dinobots clear rocks."

"Excellent." Prowl nodded shortly, turning away and heading out of the room.

"You Grimlock smart." Swoop approved. "Make him Wheeljack very happy."

Grimlock grinned. Wheeljack _would_ be proud to hear that Grimlock had won a verbal argument with the second in command. He was always saying that Prowl was patient and would always listen if they could make a logical response.

Life was a lot more complicated than he had understood when they were first brought online, he mused as he drank his energon. Back then everything had seemed very simple: please the creator, and prove he was the strongest. The latter was true most of the time. But it turned out that sometimes other things were more important than just being strong, and it was hard for him to really understand that.

Optimus Prime was big and strong, but he did weak things all the time and no-one seemed to think he was weak. Well, no-one except Megatron. In some ways Grimlock admired Megatron more, but Wheeljack would never go to the Decepticons, and if he did they would only hurt him. So if they were going to stay near Wheeljack, they needed to stay with the Autobots and for that they had to learn to understand the other important things.

Somehow, there was a different sort of strength which the Autobots valued. Not physical size, or the ability to crush an enemy. Otherwise Omega Supreme would have been been their leader and not Optimus Prime. Prowl had this other strength, whatever it was. He could make anyone do anything he wanted, not by yelling at them or forcing them, just with words. And Optimus Prime was very good with words too.

It was a worry. Grimlock was not good with words at all.

Irritated by his own thoughts, he shoved at Sludge who spilt the last of his energon.

"Why you Grimlock push me Sludge?"

"You Sludge drink too slow. We go now. Break rocks!"

* * *

Breaking rocks was just as much fun today as it had been yesterday. No weak Autobots to be careful of, just the five of them having fun.

He knew that this was helping the Autobots, and a rebellious part of him resented that but he was not sure why. Helping the Autobots made everything easier and made Wheeljack happy. And it was good to have Wheeljack happy. And there was no point in refusing to do something that was this much fun.

The important thing, he decided happily, was that he was _choosing_ to do this task, not that he had been told to.

Suddenly Swoop screeched and flew down to him.

"Decepticons! Me Swoop see! Must tell Autobots!"

"No." Grimlock told him. "No need call weak Autobots. We Dinobots crush bad Decepticons."

Swoop started to protest, but Slag, Sludge and Snarl were all in favour and Grimlock roared in triumph as the flier conceded.

"You Swoop show us Dinobots where Decepticons are and we crush them."

Swoop nodded and took off low, probably so he would not be seen too soon by the enemy, and they all lumbered after him as quickly as they could.

This was a very good thing, Grimlock thought to himself as they travelled. A chance to show the Autobots how tough they really were. Even Swoop agreed with him that the Dinobots were tougher than the Decepticons. Well, the agreement had come when they had been talking about all the Dinobots taking on any one single Decepticon, but Swoop had agreed, and he could not deny it now. Another verbal battle Grimlock had won.

Maybe he was becoming smart after all?

He was about to comment on that thought when suddenly the ground collapsed beneath him and he fell. Snarl fell on top of him, and then Slag on top of both of them. Grimlock bellowed and shoved at them until he could free himself, finding he was in a pit and that ground level was a long way above him.

As he oriented himself, he became aware of Swoop circling anxiously above and heard the pterodactyl telling Sludge to stay back. Sludge clearly did not want to obey because he appeared at the edge of the hole, and Grimlock cried out.

"You Sludge stay back. Not fall on me Grimlock!"

"Or on me Slag!"

"Why you Slag and Snarl and Grimlock go down there?" Sludge asked, confused.

"Not supposed to go down." Snarl grumbled. "Him Grimlock not see hole."

"You Snarl not see either." Grimlock huffed. "And hole not there to see until me Grimlock stand on it."

"Me Sludge see it okay." Sludge pointed out. "Why you not able to see it?"

"Because it was _invisible_ hole." Slag explained. "Grimlock know that."

Grimlock hesitated. That was not quite right, but still if it had not been invisible then that meant it was visible and he should have seen it. Which he had not.

He rubbed at his helm. Sometimes logic word stuff was hard.

"Yes." he agreed. "Invisible hole. Visible now we fall in it. But now we need get _out_ of it."

"Me Swoop can go get help." Swoop offered.

"No." Grimlock told him. "We Dinobots smart enough to save selves. No need Autobot help."

"You Grimlock have plan?" Snarl asked.

"Be quiet. Me Grimlock need to think."

There had to be some way for them to save themselves from this embarrassment. Looking around he was about to ask Swoop to go back to the _Ark_ to find a rope when he suddenly noticed that the hole wasn't just a hole - it was a tunnel.

"We go this way." he ordered, choosing the direction that would bring them closer to the Decepticons. "You Sludge stay with him Swoop and look for us to come out. We will find exit."

* * *

"How much further we go?" Snarl grumbled for the fifth time.

"Me Grimlock not know."

"We lost."

"Not lost." Grimlock countered. "Someone build tunnel, so must have exit. We look."

"Me Slag think this not fun."

"Me Snarl agree."

Grimlock agreed too, but he did not say it. There had to be an exit, that was logical. But there was no reason why the exit had to be in this direction. It might have been back behind them, or off to one of the side tunnels they had passed. It could take a very long time to find it. And yet, he could not bring himself to turn around.

Better to be decisive, even if it proved him wrong.

Stomping onwards, he wondered if the Decepticons were going to hang around for long enough for him to get there. It would make the day much worse if they did not even get to fight.

Ten steps later, the question came again.

"How much further?"

This time, Grimlock tried to ignore it. He would be mature, like a leader should be. He would ignore it and just go around the corner...

"You Grimlock choose wrong way."

On second thought, what was the good of staying quiet when others didn't even notice you were being mature?

"Me Grimlock say you shut up now or me Grimlock crush you into tiny pieces!"

"Me Snarl say you should try!"

Thoroughly fed up, Grimlock charged at him. Snarl tried to dodge but was too slow and they rolled together down the corridor and round a corner... and into something metallic.

"Oooh, you Grimlock and you Snarl in trouble!" Slag laughed. "You break special machine."

"Not _Autobot_ machine, so doesn't count." Grimlock huffed, untangling himself from Snarl to look down at the wreckage.

Whatever it had been, it was definitely broken now. He hoped he was right and that it was not one of Wheeljack's machines, or his creator would be very sad.

Picking it up in the hope of finding somewhere to hide it, he headed further along and around another corner and was surprised to see another mech. But this was no Autobot. He saw lime green paint and recognition clicked in.

"You Constructicon!" he growled.

The Decepticon yelped, struggling to free himself, but Grimlock threw the ruined machine at him and the Constructicon ended up squashed against the wall. The noise drew attention, and Grimlock grinned. More Constructicons. More Decepticons to fight.

Today was a _good_ day.

* * *

"By the time we got here it was all over." Bumblebee shrugged as he reported back to Optimus Prime who had arrived far too late to join in the fun. "Whatever the machine was, it's now completely trashed; the Constructicons only got away because Blitzwing came and got them; and from what _I_ saw, there won't be many Decepticons without dents to fix tonight, all thanks to the Dinobots. Megatron included."

Grimlock couldn't stop smiling, and didn't really want to. It had been a very good day. Many Decepticons had been caught in the close confines of the tunnels and had been easy prey for him and Snarl and Slag. And then Swoop and Sludge had arrived just in time to help beat up the other Decepticons out in the open.

Bumblebee had arrived right at the end with several other Autobots, and had been worried about some machine that the Decepticons had been building, but Grimlock told him they had already destroyed it.

The minibot did not need to know it had all been an accident.

Anyway, the news seemed to make the Autobots very happy. Wheeljack and given each of them a hug and promised them an oil bath - a luxury that was not offered often - and Optimus Prime looked just as pleased.

"You've done a good job, Grimlock." the Autobot leader told him. "In gratitude, Jazz is insisting we should throw a party in your honour, and I agree, and Prowl has promised to give you whatever duty you prefer for the next week."

Silly Autobots. They made a fuss over such little things. Still, if they wanted to be nice Grimlock was not going to complain.

"We Dinobots come to party." he agreed solemnly. "And we choose break rocks as favourite duty."

"Break rocks!" Slag echoed happily, and Sludge cheered.

Prowl sighed, shaking his head and muttering something that sounded like "told you so" but that did not make sense so Grimlock ignored it.

"Very well." Optimus finalised the deal. "A party, and then a week of rock breaking. Now I think we've done all that's needed here. Autobots, lets roll for home!"

Grimlock snorted, transforming and loping along behind the faster but weaker vehicles. The Autobots had done nothing at all, but the party would be fun. And any day he got to beat up Decepticons was a good day.

Hopefully tomorrow would be just as good.


	8. Can't handle the truth

Title: Can't handle the truth

Rating: K+  
'Verse: G1  
Prompt: "Jazz, Prowl, Red Alert, and how much they shelter their fellow Autobots on some days from reality."

A/N: happy birthday silberstreif ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I just play with them :)

* * *

Red Alert paced, trying not to panic. This was it. This was the end. And it was all his fault.

~Who saw you?~ Prowl asked over the comm channel, coolly professional as ever.

~Just Trailbreaker. He was alone. But by now he will have talked to others. ~

~Calm down.~

~I need to return to my office. I need to see what he's doing. If he's telling others...~

~Stay right where you are.~ Prowl advised firmly.

Right where he was, was Prime's office. Not where he wanted to be if they were coming to get him.

How could he have been so stupid? He had known Prime was out and what he had planned would only take a few seconds, but why had he not locked the door?

Then again, if he _had_ locked the door that would have been suspicious behaviour, locking himself into Prime's office when he was supposedly only in there to drop off his regular reports.

The office door opened, startling him, and then he saw it was Prowl.

"Come with me." the SIC ordered flatly, heading away.

Red Alert shivered. Was he being taken to the brig? What was Prowl going to do? Following nervously, he was relieved when they did not go far and Prowl simply led him to his own office and locked the door.

"It seems there is no damage done." he said serenely, turning to face Red Alert.

"What? But... but he saw me..."

"It's unclear that he registered any of it, but in any case Jazz is handling it."

Red Alert dropped into Prowl's visitor's chair, relieved that he had avoided the worst case scenario.

"What's he going to do?"

"Probably get him drunk on bad highgrade, possibly frag him, and then while he's out hack his memory core and decide from there. Trailbreaker is showing no signs of distress, however, so this is more precautionary than necessary at this stage."

Red Alert huffed, mollified but also embarrassed that he had been the one to cause all of this.

"You trust that mech with too much." he grumbled. "Far too much."

"It is hardly my fault that you do not trust your lover sufficiently to tell him the truth." Prowl responded archly.

"We weren't supposed to tell _anyone_." Red Alert reminded him tiredly, with no real venom.

They had had this argument many times before. True, they were supposed to keep their secrets to themselves, but they were also supposed to have only been involved in all this for a few vorns at most. The petty squabbles between Prime and Lord Protector should have been simple to resolve. Instead, squabbles turned to violence and they had found themselves trapped, still trying to see their mission through with ever-lessening hope of success.

Prowl had been the first to give in and take a lover from amongst their allies. Strange, because so many of those allies saw him as completely dispassionate. Not that Red Alert liked to point that out too often: he himself had been on the point of giving in to Inferno's persistent overtures in spite of the dangers inherent in having someone be so close. But he had never told Inferno the full truth, and he dared not do so now. The fact that Prowl _had_ told Jazz, and that Jazz had simply accepted it rather than running away screaming or betraying them was exasperating. It was not a normal response to such news.

It was, however, a very _Jazz_ response.

"Jazz knows how to keep a secret." Prowl responded calmly. "And he can certainly handle this current unpleasantness far more artfully than you or I. So, were you able to make contact?"

"Briefly. Things are not going well for them. We should ask for more help."

"We cannot." Prowl shook his head. "Our long absence will be deemed desertion. It is up to the five of us to try to guide this conflict to an amicable end."

"The original goals are no longer reasonable." Red Alert said bitterly.

Five of them had been selected to address this issue. In theory two were supposed to join each side and the fifth would attempt to mediate. But the mediator was swayed to join the Decepticons and in spite of the best efforts of the three working in that faction things had spiralled out of control. For now, they all kept doing their best, but the only way this would work is if none of the mechs figured out the truth. On the Decepticon side, when accidents happened, they simply killed the ones who saw things they shouldn't. Such was not acceptable amongst Autobots, and so far he and Prowl had managed to remain hidden and unsuspected, but now...

A warm, smooth appendage slid around Red Alert's back, squeezing comfortingly.

"All will be well. Trailbreaker saw little and in a few hours he'll doubt his own memories. We are safe."

Red Alert leaned into the touch, opening his armour to return it, and they clung together for a moment, seeking and offering the reassurance that they were not alone. Then Prowl jerked and Red Alert peered at him anxiously over the tangle of tentacles.

"What's wrong?"

Prowl's expression was difficult to read.

"Jazz just commed to say that Trailbreaker saw nothing at all."

"And?" Red Alert prompted, sensing that there should be more, given Prowl's reaction.

The senior Quintesson twitched in embarrassment.

"And said that if there was any tentacle-loving going on in here right now we'd better well wait until he could join in!"


	9. Stuck

Title: Stuck  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Ratchet/Wheeljack

Warning: total crack, oh and major wince alert at some of the details...

Summary: Peacewish wondered what would happen if Ratchet and Wheeljack ended up stuck together. Crack-fic, that's what.

Disclaimer: they're definitely not mine, and I don't make any money from them

* * *

"All done?" Wheeljack asked, approaching from behind.

Ratchet started to turn from Teletran's control board where he had spent the last shift, then smiled as his lover pressed up against him, wrapping arms around his waist.

"Taking lessons from Jazz, now?" he asked, thinking of how often the sneaky saboteur had enticed his own partner from the command centre starting with similar moves.

"Seems to work for him." Wheeljack shrugged. "At least I didn't do it with an audience."

Ratchet's mood soured slightly. The reason there was no audience was the same as the reason that he had been stuck in here for the past six tedious hours: a battle. He and Wheeljack were the only ones left here. Well, them and the Dinobots and Omega Supreme, but it amounted to the same thing.

"Heard anything?" Wheeljack asked, hugging him tighter and rocking slightly in apology for bringing up their situation.

"They're on their way back. No major injuries. First Aid's sent me the initial reports, and it's not much more than a few dents. It's going to take them a couple of days to drive back, though. Skyfire's got a crack in one of his turbines and they don't have the parts out there to fix it. Prime's carrying him back."

"Wow, that _is_ going to take awhile." Wheeljack mused. Then chuckled wickedly. "However are we gonna fill the time, eh?"

Ratchet chuckled and began to twist in the inventor's arms to give him the beginning of his answer, but found he could not move. Wheeljack's embrace was too tight.

"Primus below, Jack, loosen up will you?"

"What?" Wheeljack asked blankly.

"Let _go_ of me!" Ratchet demanded, pushing at Wheeljack's hands.

"I... uh, I can't..."

"What do you mean you _can't_ you glitch?" Ratchet grumbled, then hesitated and repeated his words more slowly as the implications set in. "What do you _mean_, you can't?"

"I'm kinda stuck."

Ignoring the fear bubbling up in him, Ratchet jumped straight to anger.

"I can _see_ that. What have you done? What have you been working on?"

"..._oh_."

Ratchet growled.

"What. Have. You. Done?"

"I..."

"Hurry up!"

"I-was-working-on-that-new-adhesive-you-wanted-for -making-patch-plating-stick-to-the-patient-but-not -to-the-medic-and-I-had-an-idea-of-using-personal- nanites-but-it-didn't-seem-to-stick-to-anything-at -all-so-I-thought-it-didn't-work." Wheeljack babbled.

"Well it's stuck to something _now_, isn't it? Me! Why?"

"Um, well it's interesting isn't it...?"

"No, Jack, it's not interesting, it's a problem. Why?"

He tried to twist his head far enough to see Wheeljack's face but failed, only able to make out the edge of one of his luminary panels.

"Well, uh, this is only a guess, but I think maybe it's because my nanites are tuned to yours. I mean, there's pretty good evidence that the longer couples are together and the more they _are_ together, the more aligned they are and..."

"Jack?" Ratchet asked with studied calm.

"Yeah?"

"You don't have a clue, do you?"

"Uh, no."

"Then why didn't you say so?" he asked sweetly.

"Um, because I think you're going to be mad."

"Mad? Why would I be mad? I'm well past mad I'm into fury and heading out the other side into murderous rage. Now _tell_ me you have a solvent for this. Because I _know_ I've told you a hundred times not to go testing anything until you have a solvent, so of course you wouldn't _dare_ to've tested something without creating one. Right?"

He was bellowing by the end, almost afraid to stop speaking for fear of the negative answer that was almost certainly coming his way. But Wheeljack surprised him.

"Yes, of course I do. I do listen to you."

"Does it not work, then?" Ratchet demanded.

"No, it works. The adhesive is kinda slippery in my hands, but when I use the solvent it all comes off. Takes a bit of paint, too, but not a lot."

"Then you haven't got any mixed up, right?"

"No, no, I mixed up plenty. It's in my lab."

"Then lets go get it."

* * *

The first problem Ratchet discovered was movement. Even when they moved each leg in time it was easy to lose their balance. Which they did. Several times.

The second problem was the doorway to Wheeljack's lab. The inventor had locked it behind him as he often did, and now entering the code was awkward, but after several incorrect attempts - which would no doubt send Red Alert ino a paranoid frenzy when he returned and saw the security logs - they finally got the door open. Which was when the third problem became apparent.

"Why did you put it on the top shelf?" Ratchet fumed as they stood next to the shelving unit and saw the solvent sitting in a spray bottle just out of reach.

"There was a space there."

"Jack I'm going to _murder_ you!"

"I know." Wheeljack said miserably. "Maybe we can jump for it?"

"Jump?"

"Yeah, if we both jump together, maybe we can grab it."

"You mean maybe _I_ can grab it, since your hands are already occupied. Fine. On three. One, two, three!"

Which was when the fourth problem became apparent.

"Jack is your spike out!"

"Uh, yeah. Hey it's not my fault, it's distracting having your aft pressed up against me there."

Ratchet put his face in his hands. Great. Now _he_ had the distraction of knowing he couldn't do anything about the spike pressed up against him.

"This isn't going to work, we didn't even get close. We're going to have to ask for help."

"From who?"

"Swoop."

* * *

"Why you walk like that?" Grimlock demanded.

"It's a new game." Wheeljack explained. "Where's Swoop?"

"Him Swoop go camping with him Spike. When you stop playing game?"

"When the game's over." Ratchet snapped. "Grimlock, can you come and get something from Wheeljack's lab, please?"

"Us Dinobots not like Wheeljack's lab." Snarl muttered. "Things go boom."

"Me Slag not go in there."

"Me Sludge not go in there, too."

"Me Snarl _never_ go in there."

"Me Grimlock not afraid of Wheeljack's lab. But me not go in there. Last time, me Grimlock lost arm."

"I promise nothing will blow up this time."

"Really, Jack?" Ratchet asked drily.

"Well there's a couple of compounds on the workbench that might be unstable if they got knocked about but... hey!"

They tottered as Ratchet turned them towards the door, but he grabbed at the nearby wall to balance them.

"Never mind, Grimlock, we'll manage."

"Okay. Is new game fun?"

"Hilarious." Ratchet replied, deadpan.

"Maybe Dinobots play too."

* * *

_Two days later..._

"Ooh takin' advantage of the quiet, eh, mechs?" Jazz chuckled as he entered the rec room and found Ratchet snoozing on Wheeljack's lap, the inventor's hands wrapped tightly around him.

"Jazz!" Wheeljack jumped, though notably did not let go of his mate. "You're back early!"

"Prowler sent me on ahead. He got a bit upset when he called Teletran an' got Swoop instead of either of ya. I know the Dinos do their best, but really? In the command centre?"

"So you're the only one here?" Ratchet checked, strangely not attempting to free himself from his mate.

Very odd, Jazz thought. Ratchet was usually as open to public displays of affection as Prowl. Which meant not very open to it at all.

"Yeah. For now. Why?"

"Can you please go to Jack's lab and get the spray bottle off the top shelf above his work bench and bring it back here." Ratchet asked, sounding tense.

Jazz opened his mouth to answer, then suddenly clicked.

"You're _stuck_ like that? That glue you were workin' on, Jack? Primus, mech, you're lucky Hatchet's facin' away or you'd be so covered in dents by now I wouldn't recognise ya!"

"I know." Wheeljack said miserably.

"The solvent, Jazz?" Ratchet reminded him.

Jazz grinned, making sure he had secured some image captures for later enjoyment.

"Yeah, sure. I'll go get it."

* * *

_Thirty-eight minutes and two wash cycles in the rack later, in Wheeljack's quarters..._

Ratchet sighed in relief as he sank his spike deep into Wheeljack's valve and hugged his mate (then tested that he could still move his arms away before fully relaxing).

"Primus, you have _no idea_ how good that feels."

"So I'm forgiven then?" Wheeljack asked, kissing him. "Cause it was driving me nuts,too, holding you so close and not able to do anything."

"You know I can't stay angry at you, Jack. Still, there's one thing I don't understand."

"What's that?"

"Well your hands got stuck because you'd had the formula on them, and I can see how it got on your forearms, but why was your torso glued to mine too? You're usually not _that_ careless."

"Oh, yeah. Well... see I didn't think it was working out as an adhesive so I thought I'd try to find another use for it."

Ratchet groaned.

"You used it as a polish."

"Uh, no, not exactly." Wheeljack muttered, twisting his head about and clipping Ratchet on the way.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Um, what did we do with that spray bottle?"

Ratchet froze.

"Why?"

"Well we... uh... We might have a problem."

"What sort of problem?" Ratchet asked icily.

"Well it was so slippery, I did try it as a lubricant, too..."


	10. Getting to know you (Chaos)

Title: Getting to know you  
Rating: T  
Universe: G1-AU, my Chaos-verse  
Companion fic to: Order in the chaos

Summary: The story of that one time when Prime got overcharged and helped Sideswipe with a prank.

A/N: written for kkcliffy who noticed Sunny's reference to this in Chaos came with a bang, chapter 5. The crack got a bit plotty, I'm afraid. Anyway, this is Prime's version of events. Prowl also wanted a say, so his one's posted separately as 'Order in the chaos' (chapter 28 of Prowl & Jazz challenges)

* * *

Optimus Prime was well aware that his role was far more boring than most of the Autobots realised, and that goodly part of his orn involved reading reports and then acting on the information within them. But some orns it seemed that he barely had time to complete the reading alone, and that problem had only increased since his previous security director had been invalided back to Cybertron. Red Alert was a good choice for replacement, but he was also quite... zealous... in his duties.

Putting down the report he had been reading - the fourth this decaorn listing reasons that the twins should be transferred to another unit - and rose from his seat. He understood Red Alert's concerns and they were not entirely baseless, but that did not mean he would simply accept the advice without investigation of his own. Balancing up the security team's concerns about their illegal off-duty activities were the sterling reports from Ironhide and others about their work on the battlefield. For their current situation that was more important. And to be honest, none of the pranks they had pulled had seemed that damaging to morale.

Additionally, their less-than-above-board activities had their benefits. He had occasionally had Ironhide procure a cube or two of high grade from them when he had had a bad orn, and he knew that others regularly did so. Then there was the way that Sideswipe seemed to be able to get his hands on pretty much anything a mech could name. If that mech were willing to pay the going rate, at least.

In any case, Optimus had been thinking a lot recently about how he needed to know his soldiers better. To understand them. Front line soldiers in particular could become quite... quirky... and required special handling. It came from living under major stress for long periods and having to do damage to others that in a more civilised era would be utterly abhorrent and yet now was entirely essential for survival. So to make an impartial judgement he really needed to try to see the situation from their perspective.

Then he could go back to Red Alert and assure him that everything was under control and hopefully the number of reports would decrease.

"Prime?" Ironhide asked as he walked out of his office into the command centre. "Finishing early today?"

"Yes, I thought I might. Care to join me?"

"Don't forget that Red Alert's new discipline sergeant is due to arrive in two joors." Spectre warned.

Optimus nodded at his Chief of Special Operations, waving off the concern.

"I'm sure the introductions can wait until tomorrow. The mech will no doubt be tired after his travel, in any case."

"You know what Red's like about protocol."

"Then he'll have to come and find me." Optimus said simply, though he also set an alert on his chronometer so that he would be prepared.

"So what are you planning?" Ironhide asked shrewdly as they walked towards the nearest bank of lifts.

"I think it's time I had a good chat with the twins. Over some high grade, perhaps. Any idea where they would be right now?"

Ironhide laughed.

"Yeah, Prime, I think I can find them."

* * *

A joor - or so - later, Optimus rather unsteadily set down his cube of energon as he fought through his overcharge haze to deal with an alert that had popped up on his HUD. Something about a new arrival?

"What's wrong?" Sideswipe asked.

He stared blankly at the red twin with whom he had just been having quite a lot of fun - and drinking _a lot_ of high grade - then was distracted again by the alert. Dismissing it, he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm supposed to be at my office greeting the new discipline sergeant." he sighed.

"Boooring." Sideswipe declared.

Optimus laughed.

"Yes, it will be."

They sat in silence for a moment, and Optimus picked up his cube again. He really should finish it before going; it would be rude to waste it.

"Doesn't have to be, though." Sideswipe offered thoughtfully.

"What?" Optimus asked blankly.

"Doesn't have to be boring. You could welcome him _properly_. I mean, what makes a discipline officer feel more at home than something to to discipline someone over?"

"You mean play a prank on him?" Optimus realised.

It was totally ridiculous. He was the Prime, he couldn't possibly consider doing any such thing.

And yet, wasn't that why he was here? To get to know Sideswipe better?

It couldn't be _that_ bad, right?

"What've you got in mind?"

* * *

His part was merely to use his override to gain access to the mech's private quarters. They were completely bare at the moment since the previous incumbent had taken everything with him when he transferred back to Iacon. Getting in had been far more difficult than it should have been because he kept hitting the wrong keys, but he got there eventually with Sideswipe's help.

Sideswipe seemed strangely sober for someone who had been drinking for the past... however long it had been... Optimus thought fuzzily as he watched the twins setting up the precariously balanced container of gloopy over-processed energon.

Convenient, too, how Sunstreaker just happened to have it on hand. Almost made him think they'd planned this in advance...

"Okay, done. Come on." Sideswipe grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room, Sunstreaker following and carefully placing the pressure plate on the floor before closing the door.

"Now what?" he asked, strangely exhilarated by the experience.

"Now we wait and look innocent." Sideswipe answered.

"Which _you_ never manage." Sunstreaker snorted.

Optimus stumbled and reached out to brace himself a nearby wall.

"You okay, big bot?" Sideswipe asked.

"Guess I drank a bit more than I meant to." Optimus considered, then laughed. "I didn't think it'd be this much fun."

"It won't be tomorrow." Sunstreaker muttered, shaking his head and walking off.

"Sunny! You can't just leave me here with him like this!" Sideswipe protested.

"It's okay, Sideswipe. You go. I'll just wait here for a moment until I can walk straight."

Sideswipe didn't seem convinced, but Optimus didn't care. Where was the fun in a prank if he couldn't be around to watch it come off? Distantly he knew that that meant he would also be caught, but then his intention had never really been to go undetected. Simply to understand where Sideswipe was coming from. And now he did.

This was _fun_.

* * *

This was no longer fun.

His morning had started all too early with a long interrogation from a smug Red Alert, then to be passed on to an entirely unimpressed and unsympathetic Ratchet, and now he stood in the hallway outside the discipline sergeant's office trying to determine how he was going to apologise to the mech he was going to rely upon to maintain order on this ship.

He had only the vaguest memory of a large, imposing mech with a coldly sober voice. A quick refresh of the data from Prowl's file told him the mech was in fact Praxian, an ex-Enforcer with a specialty in tactical simulation, which only left him more confused. What was someone with specialist tactical programming doing in security and not in strategy? He would have to talk to Scope about that later, though. Right now he had an apology to make, and he had dithered in this corridor for long enough.

Normally he would just enter the office - usually summoned as a witness to various infractions - but this time he politely requested entry. Best not to antagonise the mech any further.

He was pinged with approval immediately and impersonally, so he opened the door and went in.

His first impression was that the mech sitting at the desk seemed a great deal smaller than he had thought. Perfectly standard for a Praxian build, with the standard monotone colouration of an Enforcer and the red and gold helm highlights to indicate that he had held significant rank. How _had_ this mech ended up being nothing more than a junior security officer?

Prowl rose and nodded to him politely.

"Prime. Are you here to review my assignment to this role or in regards to last night's incident?"

"Firstly for last night." Optimus admitted.

"I see." Prowl said neutrally, resuming his seat and gesturing for Optimus to sit on the bench. "I have reviewed your record and it seems that this is highly unusual behaviour for you, with no prior instances of a similar nature. My superior believes you may have been coerced into involvement. It is objectively true that you were highly intoxicated while your companions were considerably more sober. For these reasons, I belive no further censure is warranted. Do you have anything to add before I finalise the determination?"

"I wasn't coerced. I had hoped to better understand them by joining in with some of their activities. It got out of hand, and I want to apologise for what occurred, but I had not expected there to be any harm done. Red Alert has been very negative towards Sideswipe in particular, and I don't think it's justified. The pranks he plays are a method of stress release..."

He trailed off uncomfortably as the other mech simply stared at him, and he gave in.

"May I know what you intend as punishment for him and his brother?"

"They will be cleaning out the washrack waste filters for the next decaorn. A task which will discomfort them to a similar degree as they did me. For the record, Prime, they have also admitted that they planned to go ahead with the prank prior to your involvement and they insist that all you did was give them access to the room, something which they could have managed themselves since they had already obtained an override code via other means. They have been honest about their role, and I see no reason to act harshly. Nor to endorse Red Alert's request that they be transferred away. Their field record clearly establishes their value here; they merely need some level of control applied to their recreational activities. Now if that is all, there is much I must familiarise myself with."

Optimus shook his head, dizzied by the mech's efficiency and clear analytical approach, not assisted by the lingering overcharge effects making his processor run sluggishly. Perhaps that was why he spoke so plainly.

"Prowl, is this truly the best role for you? Your file says you have a tactical background."

The mech had begun working on his terminal and did not look up.

"I have a glitch, Prime. I'm sure your Chief Tactical Officer can explain in detail why I am no longer part of that team, but for now I have a job to do and am content to serve as I may."

Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Optimus rose and hurried out, glancing back over his shoulder as the door closed.

A very strange mech, that one. And with something of a backstory which was no doubt an interesting tale, but Optimus would not start by going directly to Scope. His CTO was a gifted strategist and a good officer, but he did tend to be unforgiving of mistakes and mecha with flaws. No, this was something to look into a little more quietly, perhaps with the assistance of the special ops team.

Spectre's lieutenant was an aimiable mech, seemingly able to befriend anyone and everyone. Perhaps he could get the story from Prowl directly. Pleased, he sent off a message.

~Spectre? My office, two breems. And bring Jazz with you, please?~

* * *

A/N: for Prowl's perspective on the same events (and a few more tantalising hints as to Prowl & Jazz's secret relationship) don't forget to check out _Order in the chaos_ in **Prowl & Jazz challenges**


	11. As it should be

Title: As it should be  
Rating: K+

Summary: It's time to form trines and Skywarp has a pretty good idea of what he wants. But things don't turn out quite the way he expects.

A/N: 2009 one-shot that somehow never got posted here.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I make no profit from this

* * *

"Well this is awkward." Skywarp loudly commented into the silence.

A few of the others in the large hall looked over at him but most just continued looking around the room. Disappointing.

The instructors had insisted that they would _know_ when they found the other parts of their trine. That it would not matter whether it was a complete stranger or an old friend: when the trining protocols were unlocked, the choice would be right.

So here they were, all sixty-seven of them, all looking for two partners to make their trine complete.

All well aware that someone was going to leave alone.

Well it was not going to be _him_, that was for sure.

A soft exclamation of joy echoed from the far end of the large room, and Skywarp peered through the crowd. Neither of the new pair were familiar.

How had they known? he wondered fretfully. He was giving each mech in view a long look, hoping that something would trigger, but so far there had been nothing.

Oh, there were a few he would be entirely happy to share a berth with. Starting with that one in the garish gold with red highlights. Nasty colouring, but the mech's detailing was exquisate and the way he moved made Skywarp eager to see how he flew.

Maybe that was the signal? A strong attraction, they had said, so why not lust? Deciding it was worth a try, he took half a step towards the mech. Then stopped as he saw him approach two others and begin talking animatedly.

Skywarp sighed. Apparently that was not to be. A future berthmate, maybe, but not a trinemate.

Restless, he fired his thrusters and hovered above the group, hoping _someone_ would catch his optic. Instead, he felt a thread of fear winding through him.

From above he could clearly see the way the room was dividing into groups of three. Some of the participants were finding each other from opposite ends of the room, but all seemed purposeful and all had that same look of delight on their faceplates when they spotted each other.

Desperate now, he scanned the room.

He could not be the last. He could not be the lonely one. He had always been popular, had always done well socially, if not academically. Several of his classmates had actually begged him to try to manipulate his own programming so they could fly with him. He had not - would not know where to start, really - but now he was beginning to wish he had.

Too late. The administrators were gathering up the new trines and assigning them to quarters, sending them out. He was going to be left behind.

Spotting his tutor watching from a doorway, he warped over to him and landed.

"I _can't_ be the last. Something's wrong. Maybe the medics didn't activate the programming right. I want to do it again. It's not my fault!"

"Is this the one left out?" an administrator interrupted him.

"Yes." the tutor nodded.

"Very well. Come with me, novitiate."

Skywarp froze.

Just what did happen to Seekers who had no trine? He had never heard of it happening. Oh, sure, he had known his cohort had the wrong number - one had had a core glitch on activation, and another had died in an unfortunate accident - but he had been sure the problem would be solved some way.

Well now _he_ was the problem. And he no longer wanted to be solved.

"Couldn't I just join the next cohort?" he gulped. "They're gonna be coming up for trining pretty soon. Maybe I'll fit there? I don't mind waiting..."

"Quietly, novitiate." the administrator intoned.

Skywarp appealed silently to his tutor, but the mech simply gestured brusquely.

"Get going, Skywarp, you heard the mech."

Left with no option, he walked sullenly behind the administrator. Come to think of it, maybe that's how they got picked? No trine, so become one of the staff? No, that could not be right: he had seen several of the teaching staff with their trines.

Before he could get too far down the track of what might happen next, he found himself being ushered into a room just across the corridor. Another room just like the one he had just left, only this one contained older Seekers and they were all intently watching _him_.

"Uh... hi?"

They were all either standing in pairs or alone, and as he started to try to grasp what that might mean one of them suddenly pushed forward.

This Seeker was predominantly blue, with red and silver detailing. He did not so much walk as stomp, but Skywarp barely registered that because there was something weird going on.

There was a humming, a warm and inviting sound, and it seemed centred on this stranger. The light seemed to catch him, as though everyone else were standing in shadow. The others were leaving, but that didn't matter; he had no interest in them anyway. Then, most wondrous of all, Skywarp felt a word forming on his lips.

"Thundercracker. Wait, Thundercracker? Is that your name?"

"About time." the mech grunted sourly, though somehow Skywarp could tell he was inwardly delighted. "We've been missing our third for six vorns now."

"We?" Skywarp asked, confused.

Thundercracker took his arm - and oh, wasn't it wonderful to have physical contact with this mech? - and turned him gently around.

Skywarp immediately focused on a mech leaning casually against the wall who had previously been hidden by the crowd. A Seeker in bold colours, red and white and blue and silver. Beautiful enough to make that orange mech from his vorngroup look tawdry.

"Hi, I'm Skywarp." he squeaked.

The other mech stayed in place, looking straight past him.

"Are you sure, TC?" he asked snidely. "This one looks a bit plain. And slow. I don't need a trinemate who can't keep up."

"He'll keep up." Thundercracker asserted firmly. "And the connection's strong: don't tell me you don't feel it."

The third mech glared briefly, then sighed and pushed away from the wall.

"Well, I suppose we can train him up. At least his detailing's tidy."

"From Starscream, that's a compliment." Thundercracker confided.

Skywarp spluttered. Starscream? The Air Commander? The mech who had already gone through two trines and was grounded at Vos until he completed his third? _This_ was Starscream?

The questions spilt out of him before he could censor them.

"Yes." Starscream growled. "You have a problem with that?"

Skywarp opened his mouth again, hesitated, then said the first thing that came into his mind.

"I bet I can beat you in a race."

Starscream's engines revved at the challenge.

"Lets see you do it, then."

Thundercracker simply slapped his palm to his forehead, muttering something about fools, but Skywarp just wanted to laugh.

_This_ was how it was supposed to be. This was perfect. And he was going to make his ex-classmates so jealous when they found out who he had trined with!

He was part of the most powerful trine alive.

Just as he should be.


End file.
